When It Rains
by Blue-Is-4-Truth
Summary: When it rains Gojyo remembers. When it rains Gojyo tries to forget. GojyoXHakkai


**A/N: **This is now the new and improved version of When It Rains. Big thanks to my beta **Aries28** for the wonderful editing job! And lots of thanks to everyone who's reviewed or read this story (even if you didn't review!).

When it rains, Gojyo feels a deep ache in the muscles of his arms as if they are remembering a burden of heavy weight against them. When it rains he massages his arms, stretches them, struggles to work out the dull ache. When he cannot do this he tries to ignore it and winds up hugging them close to his body and gripping them tightly. He does not say a word to anyone and his silence is so loud it is like the far off rumblings of thunder that can be heard in the distance. When it rains Goku does not complain for food, Sanzo does not touch his gun, Hakkai does not smile.

Gojyo remembers the feel of wet earth sliding beneath his feet, the soft caress of damp leaves brushing against his face. He doesn't like to remember the shadowed form in the distance, and he does not like to remember the blood but then he does and he cannot help but remember what comes next. The flash of sea-green in the darkness, the expression almost like a smile, mocking yet startling in its openness. Gojyo had never really considered himself a fool but he never considered himself to be smart either, perhaps because of this he can allow himself to be forgiven for his folly.

When it rains, they do not drive and is Gojyo is thankful for that. The sound of rain against steel is always deafening loud in his ears and almost as annoying as Goku's silence. When it rains and they are far from the nearest town they camp out in tents and the sound of water against fabric is as quiet and distant as the look in Hakkai's eyes. Gojyo is not sure if he likes this sound better but it is definitely less grating on his nerves. When it rains Gojyo does not like to get caught in it. He hates the slick feel of water sliding through his hair and the way it makes him miss the feel of Sanzo's gun against his scull with an almost physical ache. When it rains Gojyo is startled to realize he misses the sound of his own voice.

He remembers how it feels to have someone's insides lying in his hands and he still gets sick sometimes remembering it. He tries not to remember it often.

When it rains, Gojyo does not like to be warm, he doesn't like the deception. He doesn't want to wake up in the middle of the night warm and comfortable and to forget for a second that outside the earth is not in the same state. So, because he does not like be wet either, he consents himself to sleeping without a blanket or a pillow with only a threadbare sheet under him and shivers as the wind howls against the tent. He tries to ignore the gentle, even breathing of the tents other occupant because it is a comfortable sound and he does not want to be comfortable.

He remembers watching him sleep, unconscious on his bed. He didn't like the stillness and often wondered why he'd have the irrational urge to place his ear to the thin chest and listen. He never did but he'd spend hours thinking he should until he would laugh and shake his head at his own stupidity. He would move on, make lunch, read the paper, shuffle his cards but at night when he'd lay down he could remember thinking that wanting to be sure was not such a stupid idea.

When it rains, Gojyo will close his eyes and not sleep and listen to the sound of the wind. He tries not to think of how much it sounds like a woman's screams and fails. When he opens his eyes again he watches the pattern of rain drops sliding down the outside of the tent and tries not to think of tears on soft cheeks because he hates to see a woman cry. When he lays down with his head on the ground he tries not to think of the heavy weight against his neck because he couldn't breath he couldn't breath he couldn't breath and the flash of silver in the darkness is only his imagination.

He remembers when he woke up but it is so vague it slips through his mind like smoke. What he remembers most is playing cards and losing for the first time in a long time. He remembers the polite, apologetic smile that caught him by surprise even as he knew he was being laughed at. Later he would remember not minding losing so much and is shocked to find it was the first time he had enjoyed playing cards since he was a boy and that maybe he hadn't been being laughed at. Maybe he was being laughed with.

When it rains, Gojyo usually doesn't sleep but when he does he dreams of the ocean. He stands on the beach and admires it's beauty from afar because he knows if he gets too close the waves will grab his feet. They will tug at him pulling him deeper in until he's almost fully submerged. The waves will lick around him in a swift current, spinning him around and for a while he will not know which way he has come from. He will be lost and he will know that there will be no escape for him but to give in. And because he knows this he will struggle against the waves forgetting that maybe if he let them take control they might bring him back to shore. But Gojyo is a fighter and he will fight against them cursing his own stupidity for allowing himself to get close in the first place. But he's not indestructible and soon he will get tired, he will give up and the waves will suck him under submerging him in a sea of green. And in his dreams he knows all of this will happen even as he stands safely on the shore.

He remembers the way his bed smelt for days after he was taken away. It was a foreign smell that for a while he could not get used to. It was a damp smell, but musty, almost like rotting wood and tea. It was not his smell so it was a sharp invasion to his senses that kept him up late at night thinking of the turquoise of the ocean, the rippling tides that had sucked him under. It was not a bad smell but it was not pleasant either. It reminded him vaguely of death and for some reason that was comforting. After a while the smell began to fade until it was no longer there at all, just a lingering memory at the corner of his mind.

When it rains, Gojyo cannot be held responsible for his actions, so he cannot be blamed when he foolishly leans over and kisses Hakkai on the mouth in their tent. He cannot be blamed for his fingertips nestling lightly on Hakkai's cheeks as his knee brushes against Hakkai's knee. He cannot be blamed for his fear at Hakkai's stillness or the low moan that erupts from his chest when Hakkai's mouth opens beneath his own. He can feel the waves slick against his skin as Hakkai's hands move to touch his hair and knows that he has not only gotten too close but that he is already submerged, sinking with no way out.

He remembers his bed again but this is long after the smell and long after the other man has left it. He is alone and feels it more acutely than he ever has before. The rain against the windows is making his eyes feel wet but he can't imagine why. He tries to think of anything, anything but sea-green and playing cards and the smell of rotting trees. He thinks of his hair lying damp against his forehead, thinks the words _I'm the one who wants to be saved_ and climbs out of bed. The scissors are light in his hand and it takes a moment for him to realize he's holding them, that he's standing in front of the mirror. For a moment he puts them down and lights a cigarette. He lets the toxin fill his lungs and knows he is killing himself. He picks up the scissors and begins to clip. Surprisingly, it is easier than he thought.

When it rains, Gojyo is silent so he doesn't say a word when Hakkai presses his body against his. Gojyo is on his back and Hakkai is on his side and Gojyo lets himself do the foolish thing and wraps his arms around Hakkai's shoulder pulling him closer. Hakkai is warm and comfortable against him and even though it is raining he allows this because obviously Hakkai likes to be warm and comfortable during the rain. He tries not to think of how the wind sounds like a screaming woman and succeeds. He closes his eyes and sleeps and when he dreams, he dreams of being submerged in the green sea. It is calm and tranquil as he floats gracefully underwater thinking of how much easier it is when you're no longer struggling. And outside of the tent, it continues to rain on.


End file.
